Living Life in the Creed
by mnemophobia321
Summary: My name is Laila bint-Karīm al Damashq and my time as an assassin has been that of a journey for myself and my fellow brothers. What shall become of me is unknown but I do know where it all began. Set in AC1, rated T for possible profanity later on
1. News

**A/N: This is my first ever attempt at anything like this so please R&R and let me know what you think :) I know not a lot about my OC comes out in this chapter but it's just to get into the swing of things. Enjoy!**

**Chapter one - News**

Light footsteps echoed against the stonework of the halls but they were loud enough to stir my slumber. I shifted my body, rustling the straw mattress that I rested upon and my eyes flickered leaving me in a dazed state. I brushed loose strands of my dark hair away from my face before squinting at my dimly lit room. No sunlight shone through the window at the far side of my room and I emitted a strained groan. Who was stalking the castle at this time of night?

I tried to ignore the sound as best as I could but the noise seemed to become irrefutably louder each time I drifted away into sleep. I had even attempted to cover my ears with the palms of my hands but it proved to be too uncomfortable and so I kicked my legs as a child throwing a tantrum would. Frustrated, I stretched, whining slightly, and slowly brought myself to a seated position. At the same moment, the footsteps stopped on the other side of my door and shortly after, a tentative knock followed.

I ran my fingers tenderly through my hair, brushing it out once more, as was my habit, "Who is it?" I murmured almost inaudibly but in the stillness of the night my timid voice would have shattered silence. I rubbed my eyes and raised my eyebrows as if trying to keep them open as I waited for a reply.

"Me." Was the only response I received. The voice was abrupt but with a hint of weariness, but there was only one person it could be. My eyes found themselves rolling and the upper half of my body fell backwards once more. With an arm slung over my eyes, I muttered: "Come in."

The door creaked open and there he stood. Adorned in white robes with a hood that covered all but the bottom half of his face to reveal his scarred lip. I had taken notice of his lack of weaponry which I found strange as it was his custom to keep them with him at all times. His head dipped in greeting and I peeked out from underneath my arm before returning the gesture and motioning towards a chair, offering him to sit. He briefly looked over to where I had directed him to before walking slowly to the chair and lay his hand roughly on the wood as if examining it before coming to the decision to sit.

"I must say, I was not expecting company, Altaïr." I gave him a soft smile but Altaïr simply let out a brief sigh as he began to sit down on the wooden chair.

"Al Mualim wishes for me to travel to Solomon's Temple to secure an artefact of great importance." He stated plainly. There was nothing in his voice to suggest anxiety or malice and so I furrowed my eyebrows in an attempt to make sense of the situation. It frustrated me that Altaïr would be so cyptic so early in the morning but I knew that asking him to shed light on what exactly he was trying to tell me was not the path to take even when it was light outside. I questioned him as I rubbed my eyes again, indicating to him that I was tired but with the combination of being himself and also a man, he did not pick up on my mannerisms, or simply chose to ignore them, and so I continued asking him if he felt afraid or anything else along those lines, but Altaïr was a stoic man and not to mention stubborn. He was also my mentor and dear friend, one who I cared deeply for. Altaïr had managed to convince Al Mualim to let me, a woman, join the Brotherhood because of my gifts in combat. Since then, I have been trying to better myself in any way to become a more useful asset to the assassins. Despite my his unusual faith in me, I still felt that I had a long way to go until I was of even half of the standard of my superiors even if, for argument sake, Altaïr was only a few years my senior.

He seemed to have taken notice of my facial expression, that of confusion and concern, "You need not worry about me." He continued before easing into the explanation as to why he was leaving. I paid little attention as I was trying to think of other ways to drop hints to Altaïr that I was exhausted and needed to sleep, that was until he mentioned who he would be journeying with.

"Why Malik? You could have taken me instead," I said bitterly and suddenly sat up once more. I had finally awoken, "But no, you chose him and Kadar." I personally had nothing against the brothers, they were members of the order that I could call friends, especially Kadar, but I was angry with Altaïr for not considering me first.

"Allow me to explain," He urged with his finger and thumb pinching at the bridge of his nose. His patience was running thin, that much was clear simply by his change of tone and posture as his shoulders had hunched forwards and his eyebrows furrowed together signifying his weariness with the subject already, "This artefact, Al Mualim has told me nothing of it, only that the Templars must not obtain it. I chose to have Malik and Kadar accompany me because you are still inexperienced," I was hurt by this but I would not let anything reveal my emotions to him. I would become more experienced if Altaïr had decided to give me a chance to prove myself but instead he keeps me locked in the Masyaf stronghold to learn from others who are available at the time rather than allow me to be an apprentice outside these walls. The bigger world is no place for an inexperienced woman, it seems.

"Not only this, but I have no time to waste. Al Mualim has stressed the importance of time and therefore I cannot aid and protect you at all times." I had noticed a change in Altaïr since he received his Master Assassin rank, he had become more defensive of himself and somewhat arrogant. I knew that I could care for my own wellbeing but I also knew better than to speak out against my mentor, furthermore, I tended not to be a reckless individual but I found it difficult not to stifle my scoff.

We spoke briefly of the new assassin recruits that a few of the elders had been vigorously training. Altaïr made no attempt in refraining from reminding me of my time as a novice. Through half lidded eyes, my dark orbs glared at his golden ones until our battle of stares became less entertaining and I allowed myself to fall back into a comfortable position before pulling the covers over my body. It was difficult not to reminisce with him after his sly comment which, admittedly, made me smirk as I remembered. I was the novice to have Altaïr as my mentor and he made my training just as harsh as any other new member of the Order. I was Altaïr's suggestion and therefore Al Mualim made sure that I would also act as the assassin's burden to bare.

Until he finally realised that I was too tired to try and force my way into the mission to the Temple, he rose from his seat and made his way to the door. I did not quite remember falling back asleep, nor did I recall Altaïr leaving my room but only a few words whether they were said or thought imprinted themselves into my mind. As simple as they were, something about them felt eerie, displaced even.

"Safety and peace, Altaïr."


	2. Farewell

Chapter two - Farewell

Bounding down the steps, I called frantically to Altaïr and Malik, Kadar seemed to be elsewhere at the time. A small grin lit Malik's face with amusement whereas Altaïr stared incredulously at me. My face flushed in embarrassment, how foolish must I have looked to have earned such a response from the man made of stone?

"I was not prepared to let you leave without a goodbye." I explained, panting slightly. The adrenaline of throwing myself out of the comfort of my straw bed and pulling appropriate clothing on before darting away to see my brothers off seemed to have been taking its toll on me. Malik chuckled softly before placing a gentle hand on my shoulder. He gave a warm smile, "I look forward to receiving a greeting similar to this when we return." When mentioning the arrival of their small party Malik's lips pursed into a scowl but he attempted, and failed, to disguise it as a cough. I smirked knowing very well that he did not wish to associate himself with Altaïr.

I gazed up into what I could see of his face but I knew that kindness filled his expression. Malik had always treated me well but he and Altaïr had an undoubted rivalry. Malik was a careful man whereas Altaïr could not very well hold himself in one place for long. Much to Malik's dismay, Kadar looked to Altaïr as a mentor as much as I did. As a result, I became quite close to Kadar. I had spent many evenings with him in training or simply talking. He once told me that he acknowledged his brother's methods as wise but favoured Altaïr's simply because cautiousness cannot always prevail.

"I believe everything is in order." I heard Kadar call from a distance as he made his way back to his traveling companions and myself and Malik removed his hand from my shoulder to speak to Altaïr of other matters. Kadar was around the same age and rank as myself but because of Malik's influence, he had a head start in becoming a more skilled assassin than I. It occurred to me then that Altaïr had reminded me of this and called him more experienced than myself the previous night. It was my turn to hide a scowl behind my dark hair but it was unnecessary.

As he approached, Kadar beamed at me and I gave him a toothsome smile. Kadar never failed to make me smile and I enjoyed his company over many of the other members of the Creed, sometimes including Altaïr. He tightly embraced me once he had reached us and, as usual, I awkwardly patted his back a few times before being released.

"I apologise, Laila." Kadar quickly said, a blush rising to his cheeks, "I tend to forget how you feel about such actions." Lies. Kadar knew very well that I was not a 'touchy-feely' person, as he so articulately puts it, unless if there was reason for it but I gave credit where it was due and I smiled once more at him. Out of the three men, he was the only one to have his hood down. His blue eyes gleamed in the sunlight and he gazed at me affectionately. Tufts of Kadar's hair curled in odd places as if someone had ruffled his hair to make it seem as if he had rolled out of his bed only minutes ago, much like myself.

Between the four of us, I was the shortest and Altaïr was just an inch or two taller than Malik. It was as if I were surrounded by giants and I hugged my arms gently before lowering my head. The feeling of being small and insignificant was what I could consider a slight fear of mine and, as silly as it sounded, I wanted to be able to stand as tall as the men that were holding their heads high with such pride. I admired their strength as assassins but more so as simple human beings.

Malik and Altaïr had left us for a few moments to recheck if everything had been accounted for, not fully trusting Kadar's assessment. On the other hand, Kadar had taken notice of my change of posture and went to place a hesitant hand on my shoulder as Malik had done previously but without a second thought, I gently took Kadar's hand and pulled him closer until I had my own arms around his middle. I felt his body stiffen in shock and a small gasp escaped his lips as I nuzzled my head into his chest.

"Be safe, Kadar." I spoke into his robes trying to conceal my desperation but as soon as I felt his arms cradle my weak willed body, a lone tear fell from my thick lashes and onto Kadar's grey sleeve, darkening the shade of the material.

"Why must you worry so?" He asked, his body relaxing but still surprised at my sudden act of fondness. I could hear the smile in his voice but I decided not to comment on it. He gave me a reassuring squeeze, "I will be fine. You know that I can hold my own and should anything happen then I have two more than capable men by my side. I am not going on this mission unprepared. I have earned my blade not through merit but skill, and I will see to it that it is kept that way." The confidence in his voice was invigorating but admittedly not enough to convince me otherwise. I was worried, not only for Kadar but all three of them. The mystery that shrouded their task felt wrong and something told me that they were also aware of this but we all knew better than to question Al Mualim, although I could guess that Altaïr had already attempted to ascertain facts from him.

We stayed like this for a few more minutes until Kadar cleared his throat and pulled his body away from mine. I wanted to cling onto him for just a couple more seconds but he simply smiled and stated that he had to leave soon and so I released him in defeat. I kept my eyes glued to the ground until I felt his fingertips against my forehead, daintily brushing my hair away from my face before tucking it behind my ear and lifting my chin up to look at him. He stared at me before smiling once more, "Your hair has grown," He observed and I choked on a chuckle, "Keep it this way, it suits you." Kadar continued as he took a lock of my hair and extended it sideways to its full length until his fingers reached the end of the strands and it fell back down to my waist.

"Kadar, we will leave without you!" We jumped as we heard Malik call from the Masyaf gates. Kadar lifted his arm and scratched the back of his head in the same manner that a boy would if he were caught doing something he should not have been. We exchanged our goodbyes and Kadar jogged over to his comrades. I called one last farewell to the three of them and Kadar turned and walked backwards as he waved, Malik raised his hand but continued on and Altaïr trudged along as if he did not hear me.


	3. Grief

Chapter 3 - Grief

Morning had come and gone as if in the blink of an eye and almost a week had passed since the departure of my brothers. I appeared to have been meandering around in what seemed like such little time helping people around the stronghold or village with anything that they needed assistance with. My spare time was spent engrossed in the pages of books in the library on the lower floor of Al Mualim's quarters.

After growing bored with my own company, I set off to the library once more to bury my head in knowledge. I stepped outside into what was a beautiful, cloudless day, so much so that I could not help but smile at my surroundings. The heat of the sun was not unbearable, but welcomed instead. I shielded my eyes as I looked up into the azure sky and witnessed a large bird circling through the air before disappearing once more into the sunlight. I brought my eyes level again and took notice of the luscious green grass that was all around me, tempting me to touch and lounge in it for the day but I could not indulge myself just yet.

I made my way back to the stronghold but I had to overcome a certain obstacle before entering the fortress. An unhooded assassin was leant against against the large doorframe, eyeing me suspiciously. His dark eyes narrowed at me and his short black hair had an unusual glimmer to it.

"What business have you here?" He demanded gruffly. I almost laughed at him.

"What right do you have to know of my business?" I replied tartly and the male assassin seethed at me. If that was all it took to make this man angry then I dared not to provoke him further, I knew who he was and what he was capable of. Abbas Sofian was his name and because of his bitterness towards Altaïr, he was also bitter to those who were even mildly connected to the Master Assassin. Abbas' reasoning for this was still unclear to me as Altaïr had told me that it was none of my concern and so I should not dwell on his attitude towards me.

I tried to walk around Abbas but he immaturely stepped into my path each time I attempted to avoid him.

"Move." I did not even want to make myself sound more polite, especially to Abbas. For whatever reason he hated Altaïr, it gave him no reason to project his distaste on others.

"Why are you here?" He enunciated every word as if to patronise me.

"To read. Have you not anything better to do with your time, Abbas?"

"You have the same arrogance as Altaïr." And with this, I forced my way past the resentful assassin and started towards the book shelf that I had been visiting each day. I heard Abbas scoff before leaving to possibly bully another member of the Order.

As usual, there were assassin guards at each pillar on either side of the large hallway that led to the stairs up to Al Mualim's quarters and because I was a lower rank than them, I had to lift my right fist across my chest and bow my head in respect to those who I passed. Once the formalities were done, I weaved through to a table to read the book that I had selected. The book had a dusky red leather cover and it opened with a satisfying creak, the pages were thin and delicate with text so intricately detailed that it was difficult to not want to learn from the words.

There was a quiet murmur amongst the Creed members in the library, including those who were guarding it. I occasionally peaked over the book I held to try and eavesdrop on what they were speaking about but it seemed that every time I did, they would lower their voices and look away from my general direction. Were they speaking of me? I tried to think of any possible thing that I could have done wrong in the past week but nothing came to mind. Perhaps my appearance was somehow unappealing to them this particular day? I found myself feeling insecure and cowered behind my book again. As the only female assassin, I was subject to attention that was either well received or unwanted. It was only when I had heard Altaïr's name being mentioned for the second time that I dropped the book I was reading on the table and slammed it shut. The noise echoed through the building and I sat there with my eyes closed in an attempt to calm myself. My brothers that were in the library all looked at me, some squinted and scrunched their faces as if in pain while others gaped. I exhaled loudly before opening my brown eyes once more and staring them all in the face.

An assassin whom I was vaguely familiar with spoke first, "Sister, it is not necessary for you to release anger on the books," He whispered loud enough for me to hear over the resumed mumbling of other assassins. He walked over and took the seat opposite me, "My name is Rauf, I am not sure if we have been fully acquainted?"

"Ah yes, I recall you." I replied but in truth I still did not know who he was. His hair was dark and as were his eyes but his skin tone was slightly lighter than others. My mind was elsewhere, I had been told by several others that I have to keep control of my temper but it was difficult to when my fellows spoke ill of my mentor, as unorthodox and rash as he may be.

"Altaïr has-" My eyes flashed dangerously at Rauf but he chuckled, "Calm yourself. Your mentor has returned, he is upstairs with Al Mualim now." Rauf continued and he realised how overjoyed I was to hear of his presence within our walls but his expression grew somewhat solemn at my next question.

"What of Malik and Kadar?"

Rauf shifted uncomfortably, "Altaïr did not return with them but I assume he may have decided to ride faster than his comrades so he could debrief Al Mualim to allow the others to rest when they arrive." The last part of Rauf's response sounded almost desperate, as if he did not fully believe in his own words, and this was hardly reassuring.

"And you return to me with nothing but apologies and excuses!" Al Mualim boomed from upstairs. The entire library was silent and each of us looked towards the stair case as if expecting the one our teacher was scolding to walk down them in shame. A muffled response to Al Mualim was heard.

"Do not speak! Not another word!" We all winced at the rage in his voice. Al Mualim was generally a mild, aged man whom we looked to for guidance but such anger within him was almost unheard of. He had been particularly reluctant to allow me to train under the Order but after much consideration and persuasion, he had relented. The sound of fumbling turned some of my brothers' attention to the entrance of the library when they each exchanged exclaimations of shock. Once away from my thoughts, I also turned to look upon what the fascination was.

Stood between the doors was an exhausted, pale Malik with his left arm covered in metallic crimson liquid, his other was clutched to something that we did not recognise. Beads of sweat were present on his forehead and he panted raggedly as he instructed one of the assassins to take the object before shifting his weight towards the staircase.

"Malik." I said over the silence of shocked members but he did not even acknowledge my existence let alone my cry. I had not wanted to admit to myself that Malik's coldness had emotionally injured me as when I glanced at his arm I knew that I could not be so selfish. We were all familiar with the feeling of loss and so it became easier to sympathise with one another but it also brought about the reaction of bitterness and the instruction to 'move on'. As a woman, I found myself more inclined to inhibit a more subtle and caring nature towards my brothers but this was not to be mistaken for weakness which was something those such as Abbas frequently merged together and he often jested at me for it.

Half way up the stairs, we heard Malik call: "No, not dead!" His hand clamped onto his injured arm. I went to follow him up the stairs but the assassin guards were quick to react and pulled me back to where the other listeners were. The assassin who was holding the prize that Malik had brought in was the only one who was allowed up the stairs to where the drama was occurring.

"Robert threw me from the room! There was no way back, nothing I could do." I heard Altaïr respond, I had never witnessed him at his most vulnerable and neither did I intend to, but the helplessness in his voice was almost as bad.

"Because you would not heed my warning! All of this could have been avoided! And my brother..." The tone of Malik's voice was mixed, rage and sorrow were hand in hand as he retorted. I felt the tears stinging my eyes, bracing for the worst, "My brother would still be alive!"

My knees buckled beneath me and I was trapped by the concerned voices of my brothers as I fell to the cold stone. One hand tried to grip the surface while the other clutched around my stomach and I retched violently. Tears streamed my face and my breathing became unnatural. I heard Rauf call to the others to take me away while another assassin ran up the stairs to pass a warning to Al Mualim. Within seconds there was a continuous message going from brother to brother informing one another of the attack that had been mounted by Robert de Sable.

"Laila is in no condition to battle," I faintly heard a familiar voice say, "Take her to a safe place, in the care of our doctors." I realised that it was Altaïr speaking. His dignity never left him, he held himself still with such poise that I could feel his strength emanating from him. My memories became more and more vague and my eyes would open each time at a different scene but the sounds were the same, screaming, metal clanging against one another and then silence.


	4. Comfort

Chapter four - Comfort

An agonising scream pierced through the walls of the room I was residing in. The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end and I clenched my fists in an attempt to block it out. I had been unconscious for the duration of what was left of the day. The fight against de Sable had been successful and the Creed suffered no lasting damages apart from a few members who had injuries ranging from broken bones to stab wounds.

The cries from the next room were Malik's. The wounds on his left arm had been so severe that the doctor found no other choice but to amputate it. His wails were muffled by a gag that he was biting down on but still had the ability to make blood curdle. I had overheard the doctors making their decisions about the surgery, they had sounded unsure but Malik insisted on them trying. He had faith in what his body could endure but the doctors still had their doubts and, by the sounds of it, rightly so.

I was awoken by the initial moans of pain that Malik emitted and in some sense I was grateful as I feared that I would have not come around for days if his cries did not jolt me awake. The doctors were busy with Malik and so I had a few female attendants flailing about in an attempt to calm me once I had come back to the world of the living. They were three women from the village that were, in a way, trained in medicine although I still did not completely trust their word. One of the women had tried to give me a foul smelling concoction of herbs and what looked like common grass, it had taken a while for me to convince her that it was not necessary. After much more of their hysteria, I had managed to dismiss them albeit with the slight use of force and the combined assistance of Rauf.

I momentarily listened to Malik's screams for I did not know whether they were for the physical pain he underwent or because of the emotional torment his heart was putting him through. Kadar was gone and there was no way to bring him back. I sobbed many times during my hours spent in the medical rooms, my knees had been pulled up to my chest and my head hung low. I could only imagine what Malik had to put up with and I knew that this would create further tension between himself and Altaïr but despite these thoughts, my mind continuously trailed back to a gleaming smile that had once brought me much happiness and so began the cycle of tears.

I was discharged from the medical bay after two days as they were unsure of my emotional health, but a general order to the rest of the brothers to keep a close eye on me was still issued. A few had offered to accompany me as I went to visit a miraculously recovering Malik but I had politely told them that there was no need and my meeting with him would be on a personal note but this visitation was to wait as a comrade had informed me that Al Mualim wished to see me in his study. His expression was one of worry and this unnerved me as I knew I was in for a scolding and how right I was.

"I trust you are well now, Laila," Al Mualim had begun in his usual tone full of wisdom and years. The only source of light in the study was emitting from the large window located behind Al Mualim's desk that was cluttered with parchment consisting of progress reports on current assignments and diagrams of contraptions that I could not recognise. Al Mualim was sitting at his desk equipped with a quill which he occasionally dabbed into an ink pot before resuming his work.

I had simply nodded as I had not quite found my voice for I knew not of my fate, "I must say that I am disappointed." He settled his quill onto the desk before raising his wrinkled face to gaze at me. I was already aware of this and it had also preyed on my own thoughts. I had shown weakness to such an extent that it rendered me incapable of aiding my brothers in battle.

"I understand." I had managed to croak but Al Mualim sighed irritably.

"No, that is exactly what you do not understand," His anger was rising and his eyebrows furrowed, "I was reluctant to accept you into our ranks, this you know very well, but Altaïr had shown faith in you and so I trusted his judgement. Now, the fool has humiliated himself, disobeyed our Tenets and our Creed has suffered a loss all in one outing. It appears that his weakness has also taken its toll on you."

I had not realised that my fingernails were digging into my palms until I had relaxed my tensed muscles and exhaled slowly through the nose, "What has become of my mentor?" This took Al Mualim by surprise that he concealed quickly behind an expression that made it difficult to tell if he was displeased with my question.

"He has been punished accordingly," He stated but glanced at me before adding, "His Master Assassin rank has been stripped and he know holds the title of a novice." I was glad though I bit back the urge to exclaim in joy that Altaïr had not been punished with death. I had to choose my next words carefully.

"If you are willing, teacher, allow me to have a clean slate." It was not quite a demand but neither was it a request and Al Mualim raised his eyebrows at me as if I had said something absurd. This worried me as I feared that my time in the Creed would be over before I had a chance to prove myself.

"You have had training to the same extent as your brothers but the only factor that separates you from them is gender. I have to assume that it is because you are a woman that you are unable to cope with what could become a regular occurrence, with thanks to your 'mentor'."

"The victim was a close friend of mine. Shock and the initial feeling of sorrow cannot be blamed on gender, and gender cannot be an excuse for incompetence." My teeth almost immediately bit into the inside of my lip. I had spoken out of place and allowed my tongue to run away with my thoughts. I saw Al Mualim's shoulders stiffen before he finally pushed his seat away from his desk, rose to his feet and turned to face his grand window. Hands clasped behind his back, he dismissed me with a grumble.

I stalked quickly through the corridors before turning into the all-too familiar rooms and as I neared towards Malik's current lodgings. Gently, I pushed open the door to the room and a faint smell of blood and another scent that I did not recognise filled the air. My eyebrows furrowed as I peered into the room. There was very little natural light and so candles of all different sizes had been lit around the room. Located in the middle was a typical straw mattress bed that Malik was sprawled out across with a white sheet covering most of the left side of his body while the other revealed his bare chest and as my eyes trailed along further I came to realise what the unknown smell was. His right hand was clasped to a hose that was attached to an oddly shaped contraption and slowly, he brought the metal mouthpiece of the hose to his lips and inhaled deeply.

"Is the mu'assel helping to dull the pain?" I asked naïvely and I saw the faint shadow of a smile play on his features.

"I will use that as my excuse next time." He replied as he exhaled, blowing smoke out and raising his eyebrows as if he were impressed. I closed the door behind me and walked over to his bedside to place the smoking device in the corner of the room and told him that he could have it back when I had left.

Malik was resting his head on his folded robes and he sighed before closing his eyes. It was at this point that I realised his facial hair was making its return, it made him look older, wiser even. The rest of his face was tired and distress was evident amongst his features. I was not sure how long I spent staring at him but I did not know how to engage in conversation with him and soon enough, Malik broke the silence.

"How are you feeling? Al Mualim mentioned that you collapsed." He asked, his eyes still closed in what would look like tranquil state to those who did not know him.

I stammered, "Fine. I... I have recovered well." Physically, that was. Inside I was still mourning the death of who I would consider my closest friend and I had also wanted to speak to Malik of my abrupt meeting with Al Mualim but I needed not to have Malik worry about me any more than he already was.

I pulled a nearby chair and sat by Malik's bed, resting my hands on the straw of the mattress for I had nothing else to do with them.

"Malik, I-" I began, not entirely sure what I was going to say but Malik cut me off.

"Please, not of that. Speak of anything but..." He trailed off to breathe deeply and the sight of him broke my heart, he was fighting off tears. I reached towards his hand and placed mine on top of his. I felt his fingers twitch beneath the contact and I gazed at him with solemn eyes. His eyelids flickered and I heard the jagged breaths being released from his nostrils as he turned his head away from me.

"It will be all right." I said automatically as I proceeded to hold his hand. Malik's head turned to face me again.

"Because of Altaïr, my brother is dead." He choked as he stated it bluntly with tears brimming his eyes, threatening to spill down his cheeks. I quietened him down but allowed him to mourn, I suspected that he had not had the chance to since his return to Masyaf. I could not empathise with Malik as I had not experienced the loss of a loved one through such an unexpected way let alone the loss of a sibling. Malik was particularly fond of his brother and I distinctly remember how he would often go out of his way to ensure that none would bully or bring harm to Kadar. It pained me to see Malik in such a state but it would have worried me even further if he had not shown signs of sorrow.

I hesitantly asked him what had happened at Solomon's but Malik quickly dismissed the topic entirely. It was a year later until he spoke of the events: how Altaïr had killed the innocent man and confronted de Sable and compromised each of their safety. It had not occurred to me in those earlier days that Altaïr could be capable of breaking all three of the Creed's tenets and my face reflected the feeling of shame in him though I realise now as I look back on it that Altaïr was not the man who I had suspected him to be.

Malik's fist curled into a ball forcing me to let go of him. He had not even the opportunity to say goodbye to his brother and this plagued Malik's mind.

"Altaïr was unwise." I stated simply from what information that I had gathered from the confrontation in Al Mualim's study a few days prior and anger replaced Malik's otherwise calm demeanour.

"Unwise is an understatement." He spat with such dislike that I retracted my arm through instinct.

Malik asked me of my incident and as I explained he looked at me apologetically.

"I vaguely remember hearing you call my name," He replied and looked directly into my eyes, "I am sorry for not responding." I waved my hands and shook my head comically as I told him that I thought nothing of it, he had his reasons to ignore the world at that time. I also jokingly presented the notion of allowing me to see his left arm as a way to be even with one another but surprisingly, Malik accepted.

"You are sure?" I asked, confirming his answer.

"There is no harm in it."

I slowly rose from my seat and made my way around his bed and my hand rested gently on his shoulder that was concealed by the sheet. He winced softly at the feeling of the tender skin being touched and he remained looking away from me as I lifted the sheet.

I caught a gasp in my throat. The surgery had taken off his entire forearm and half of the upper end of his arm, there was a bloody bandage wrapped around the wound and half way up what was left. Malik's chest rose and fell rhythmically as I observed his injury but I had not realised that he had turned to look as well.

"Al Mualim has decided to send me to the Jerusalem bureau." He said flatly, taking note of every detail of his arm. I nodded in response, not entirely certain of what to say. It was one of the best decisions I had heard in a while, Malik was not able to be the assassin he once was but his extensive knowledge could not be allowed to go to waste.

"You will be an exceptional rafiq." I said with a small smile and Malik returned the smile but just as quickly as it occurred, it disappeared almost instantly.

I had established not to ask Malik if he was aware of Altaïr's fate and so we discussed trivial matters such as the current book I was reading and I even told Malik of my confrontation with Abbas and Malik tutted before shaking his head.

"Abbas is as foolish as his own rival." Malik commented as if he were nostalgically recalling something amusing from years ago but there was no glimmer of humour in his features.

"Why must he always be so complacent?" I muttered aloud although I did not expect an answer and Malik made a grunting noise in agreement but did not elaborate on his response. I pulled up the sheet to cover Malik's arm again but he shook his head.

"If I cannot bring myself to show my injuries to others then I am not fit to leave this room." Malik firmly replied and I removed my hand from the sheet. We soon ran out of topics to discuss which meant that I had overstayed my welcome. Malik had tried to assure me that such a thing was not possible but I waved it off and said that I also had to attend other matters. In truth, I believed that Malik did not have enough time to himself and so I was adamant in giving him these rare moments of peace. I shifted the smoking mechanism back to Malik's side and rested the hose by his right hand and although Malik smiled, his eyes were red and his body ached. Great sorrow had overcome him once again and I closed the door not knowing if he wept or continued to hide behind a brave face.


	5. Escape

**A/N: Sorry for the late update, I was previously engaged by exams and whatnot but here it is :)**

**Chapter five - Escape**

"What a fitting punishment. How badly did that notion taint your pride, mentor?" I spoke with intense indifference and sarcasm as Altaïr attached his newly reacquired hidden blade to his wrist that even he flinched at my words, but I was not quite finished, "You were let off fairly easily. I believe death is the usual penalty for breaking only one of the tenets but thrice you escaped such a fate and was stripped of your Master Assassin rank instead. The others are right, Al Mualim does hold you in high regard!" Altaïr span on his heel and fiercely bore his eyes into mine. The fingers of his left hand flexed, itching to test his hidden blade once more but I scoffed at him and folded my arms.

"One more word and I will-" Altaïr began and I laughed incredulously at him.

"And you will do what, exactly?" I challenged him, my anger now nearing the point of overflowing, "Malik has been handicapped and Kadar is dead because of you!" I shouted louder than I had expected to. I saw Altaïr's shoulders lift and descend as he took deep breaths and his fists clenched. The scar on his lip appeared to twitch as he practically snarled at my behaviour, I had never been so angry with a person in my life and yet my mentor stood in front of me, silent and guilty.

I strode towards him with more confidence than I should have had and paced around him in circles.

"I would ask what you were thinking but it is clear that you were doing nothing of the sort," I mused, "Al Mualim calls you one of his best but all I see is an insolent imbecile who cannot so much as face the consequences of his own actions!" My hand tore at his hood during my tirade of verbal abuse and in a flash I found my wrist being suspended in the air by Altaïr's hand that clamped tightly onto it, my other wrist and back were being pressed harshly against the stonework of the wall behind me. I looked up into Altaïr's golden coloured eyes that were filled with fury. I had successfully managed to pull his hood down to reveal his short and unusually light brown hair that framed his handsome face.

"Do you not think that I feel regret or loss or pain?" Altaïr asked with such calmness that it frightened me, his face only inches away from my own. I expected him to continue but he unhanded me and stepped back, "I am leaving for Damascus tomorrow at dawn."

I almost screamed at him again, "Stop being so dismissive and listen, it is your inability to hear others that failed your last mission." I said angrily, purposely lessening the volume of my voice but Altaïr glowered at me again.

I sat cross legged in the gardens behind Al Mualim's library in my full assassin attire and my hood up. I reflected on the past few days events with many a sigh and stifled tears. I had used the grey material of my sleeves to dab my eyes only to recall the connotation of crying on Kadar. I felt so helpless and despite the caring natures of Rauf and Malik I was also lonely. Altaïr had departed for Damascus two days ago, regardless of what I had to say to him. There was no way of evading his outer shell that was as hard as the stone that the Masyaf castle was built with. I shifted to lay on my back in the soft grass and I interlocked my fingers behind my head. I was troubled. Altaïr was, in some way, my friend but I felt no sympathy for him and as a result, we seemed to have distanced from one another.

After another sigh I closed my eyes and listened to the wind rustle the leaves of the many trees surrounding the gardens. When I was young, my mother often took me to these very gardens where she taught me how to read and write. My father was an assassin and after much debate with Al Mualim, he successfully managed to convince him to allow them to marry. I was conceived a year after and my mother was permitted entry to the Masyaf castle so my father could help her in raising me. I yearned for the embrace and reassuring words of kindness of my mother, for her to tell me all was well and that the problem would only last for as long as I dwell on it. Unfortunately, I lost my mother to a long term illness that was taking its hold on her over the years when I was at the tender age of ten. My father was taken captive a few years down the line after failing the assassination of a key Templar agent in Acre but as an assassin he was expendable and therefore of no use to the Templars but any information that he preserved of the enemy was a threat and so followed his untimely death.

I was taken away from Masyaf as it was no place for a child to grow up without the care of her parents and so I lived in an orphanage in Jerusalem. We were fed, watered and treated well but after so much time in Masyaf I never truly felt at home. I practised simple combat in secret and honed my skills as I entered my teenage years but without the proper guidance I knew I would not progress very much and my wish was granted. I still believe to this day that there was something of divine nature that led a member of the Creed to me in Jerusalem at my time of need. The guards were not tolerant of thieves and for quite some time they had been trying to determine who had been quietly slipping away with stolen fruit and my luck had ran out when a keen eyed guard had spotted my discrete swipe after many weeks of success on my behalf. I bounded through the streets and took to as many alleyways as possible but there were two guards tailing me by foot and two others by rooftop. I vividly recall stumbling and grazing my knees and palms on the ground and the guards' evil chuckles echoing against the walls of the alley. One violently swung his sword at me and, much to his surprise, I evaded his blade and accomplished an almost perfect disarming manoeuvre, but this was as far as my skills took me. I parried the first few blows that were exchanged but after the two from the rooftops joined in the brawl I was not oblivious that I was outnumbered. My knuckles had turned white from the fierce grip that I kept on the hilt of the sword I carried and my eyes closed tightly as I braced for what I knew what coming, but it never happened. I heard the sounds of flapping material, the unsheathing of a blade and muffled death cries but I dared not reopen my eyes. I jumped and lifted my weapon as a warm hand touched my shoulder and lowered the blade I clutched to.

"Keep your eyes closed." A male voice instructed me before taking the sword from me and leading me away.

Once I was told it was safe, I slowly opened my eyes and squinted to adjust to the light again. A boy, of no more than five years my senior, stood before me fully clothed in white robes and a distinguishable hood concealed the upper half of his face. A bloody gash ran through the right side of his lips but he ignored it and told me to do so when I asked about it. We were stood not too far away from the exit of Jerusalem and I smiled at him.

"You are an assassin." I remember saying with such joy and the boy simply looked at me strangely before nodding slightly.  
"What is your name?" He asked curiously.  
"Laila bint Karīm al Damashq." I replied with confidence and the assassin nodded again and began to look at the heavily guarded exit. I frowned at his lack of interest but shrugged it off when he spoke to me again.

"I am an assassin, yes, and as such you must find another way of escaping. I will meet you on the other side by the stables." I was confused and he took note of this, "You have skills we could use to our advantage and your heritage implies that you should be with us and not here. I will take you to Masyaf where we assassins train and live by the Creed." I could not contain my excitement. I jumped gleefully and squealed joyously. The assassin raised an eyebrow at me and I stopped before clearing my throat but the smile never left my lips.

The assassin sped off and climbed up a building where I saw him launch from one rooftop to another and soon he was on the wall that outlined Jerusalem. I stared in awe until he disappeared out of sight and I noticed civilians directing odd looks at me. I looked at the ground before walking away, hiding my face in embarrassment. There was a guard change and I sped up in an attempt to use this to my advantage but I was far too slow in reacting and there were newly placed guards before I had even reached the exit. I huffed in frustration pondering over how I was going to meet the mysterious assassin on the other side of the wall. I contemplated scaling the buildings but I was more likely to die trying than succeed and live. Frantically, I looked around for any means of escape as the guards would not willingly allow a child to leave the city without an adult figure. Then it struck me.

A convenient married couple was heading towards the exit and I slyly edged my way behind and followed them as if I were their child. I strained to keep a straight face and I held my breath as I passed the guards who were facing the opposite way but I heard one of them mutter to another but before they could take a step forwards the couple laughed to themselves and I quickly began skipping in front of them and forcefully giggled. The guards backed off, fooled by my charade and once they were out of sight I ran for the stables where I was told to meet my saviour. The assassin was leaning against the wooden planks of the stable and I noticed him faintly nodding his head, "Very well executed." He commented with vague approval. I tilted my head to the side and furrowed my eyebrows.

"Were you testing me?" I asked and that was the first time I heard him laugh, albeit inwardly. I scowled and rested my hands on my hips, "I believe I have earned the right to know your name." I purposely said it as a statement rather than a question as a question was liable to receiving an answer that was insufficient.

"Altaïr ibn-La'Ahad." He replied. It was a fitting name for someone such as he and spoke thousands of words about his personality. From that day on I trained under Altaïr and even aspired to be like him in the sense of strength but from the events of the present, I wanted nothing to do with him.


	6. Faith

**Chapter six - Faith**

Malik had been released from the medical bay a week and a half later and prepared to travel to the Jerusalem bureau. He had decided against discarding his typical assassin robes but chose to wear simpler ones through convenience. The sleeve of the left arm dangled as there was nothing to fill it and I watched our brothers give him looks of sympathy but Malik simply waded through them without a second thought. I sighed as I tried to think of anything that I could do to help him but I only had an hour until he left.

"Sister," A voice behind me suddenly said and I jumped before turning to look at the assassin, "Could you deliver these to Malik?" He held a folded new robe that rafiqs traditionally wore and I smiled before accepting and quickly advanced towards Malik's quarters.

I proceeded to knock on his door but he opened it at the same moment and I had to stop myself from tapping my knuckles against his chest.

"I have your new robe." I told him and held them up.

"Ah, yes." Malik said as he awkwardly used his right hand to take them from me and his eyes narrowed at them. It was clear that he was not content in wearing the attire but I encouraged him in trying them on. After much debate, he slipped his right arm through the sleeve in defeat and I assisted him with his left.

"They look fine." I assured him as he gave them a distasteful look and sighed.

"The left hand side is proving more troublesome than I anticipated." He admitted finally and I gave him a soft smile.

"We will just have to fix that then." I replied and he looked away from his robes to me with his lips parted slightly and eyebrows raised.

After having Malik take off his new robe, I analysed his limp sleeve before advancing towards him. I fumbled with the material, pursed my lips in contemplation and ripped the fabric clean from its seams to reveal what was left of his arm. Malik stumbled backwards and switched his gaze between me and his sleeve on the floor. He did not need to ask for an explanation as I began to laugh at his facial expression and explained.

"It will only get in the way," But Malik still had to take in what had happened though I did not necessarily give him the chance, "Now, put this back on." I said as I handed him back his rafiq robe. Once he had complied, I folded the sleeve upwards and Malik understood what I was trying to achieve.

"There is a needle and thread in those drawers somewhere." He said, motioning towards a small set of drawers on the far side of the room. I released the sleeve and burrowed my hands in the drawers and found the items he had previously mentioned. Malik sat on the edge of his bed and used his right hand to hold the fabric up and I sat on a chair opposite him and began sewing the material together carefully so I did not poke his skin with the needle.

"I hear Altaïr has been demoted," Malik said smugly as I sewed his sleeve and I held back a smile, "And he has to run errands that our novices could accomplish?" He continued in silent joy at Altaïr's misfortune.

"If he was not going to be punished by death then he had this coming his way instead. He deserves it." I replied, struggling to keep a neutral perspective with the current situation. Thankfully, Malik acknowledged that I did not want to discuss the matter further and left it at that. I continued to weave the needle through the material and after I was satisfied, I tied off the end and cut off the excess thread. Malik released the sleeve and stared approvingly at the folded fabric before looking back up at me, "Thank you." He said and I beamed.

"It is the least I could do, brother." I responded but Malik shook his head.

"I have done nothing to deserve the kindness you have supported me with. It is only fitting that I repay you," He said with a small smile and I listened intently despite the feeling of modesty, "Would you like to accompany me to Jerusalem?" He offered and I was taken aback. It had been years since I had seen outside of Masyaf and it would be an adventure. With Altaïr not present there would be no one to suggest that I stay in Masyaf in the protection of the brotherhood. I had not realised that I had yet to give Malik an answer but he chuckled, "I will take your silence as a no?" He asked and I snapped out of my thoughts.

"No! I mean, yes! Yes, I would be delighted to travel with you!" The words came out too quickly for me to control them but judging by Malik's reaction, he understood what I meant.

"You should pack supplies of water and food then." He smirked as he shooed away me from his bed chamber.

Packed and ready to leave that very instant, I beamed at Malik as if I were an excited child who was about to receive a gift for an occasion such as a birthday. Malik remained calm and went through a list of necessities that I needed to take along with me but I was far too caught up in joy to have listened to him properly. Malik continued on to load the saddlebags on our steeds and I turned to look at the Masyaf castle, shielding my eyes from the burning sun. I had previously sought out Al Mualim to inform him of my intentions and he tentatively agreed with my reasonings: I had told him that training alone was not enough to make me a valuable asset and therefore I needed experience. Malik had also implored our teacher to allow me to leave and he waved us onwards, tired of our words. As I gazed at our stronghold, a feeling of uncertainty swept over me and I wavered momentarily until Malik caught my attention once more.

"You do not have to accompany me," He said plainly and I span on my heels to give him an incredulous expression, "You seem troubled, are you having doubts?" My features softened as I sighed in defeat.

"I know nothing of the world apart from what I have seen in my youth and read in the pages of dated books, I am ignorant. I fear that I will not be of use to you." I replied and Malik smiled at me, thankful of my honesty. He rummaged his right hand through a saddlebag before pulling out an oddly shaped object that was wrapped in a white cloth.

"Al Mualim holds faith in you." Malik spoke with such strength and wisdom that it was difficult for me to meet his eyes for I felt inferior to him but he proceeded and I accepted the object with a nod of thanks before slowly unravelling it.

I distinctly remember asking Altaïr what his experiences were as a young assassin and he often brushed off such topics and put me through even more vigorous training. The day I had managed to gain a response from him was on an excruciatingly hot summers day in Masyaf and I had scaled each building in the village before climbing to the very top of the castle prior to nearly losing consciousness at the last moment causing me to lose my footing and had it not have been for Altaïr, I would have plummeted back down to the earth. I recall my vision being heavily distorted but I soon recovered as Altaïr held my head and tempted my lips with cold water but he refused to allow me to have the water unless if I drank it by my own will. After much scolding from Altaïr, we found ourselves sitting atop the castle enjoying the day and each others company. It is this memory that I hold in which I first witnessed Altaïr smile. Indeed, I had seen his cocky smirk many times before but never before had his smile touched his eyes like it did that day.

"Altaïr," I began as he shifted to sit crossed legged, anticipating a long conversation, and he glanced at me through the corner of his eyes, "Why did you have me run around the village like a headless chicken would?" I threw my hands in the air as I spoke and I heard him stifle what sounded like a chuckle.

"Consider yourself lucky, my training was much harsher than yours." He replied and took a swig from the waterskin before passing it over to me as I leant to him with my arm extended. Altaïr then lowered his hood and dabbed his forehead with his sleeve to rid himself of the beads of sweat that had formed. I recall staring at him for many minutes, simply taking in any details that I could retain of him such as the short hairs that were protruding from his chin and upper lip, the amber glint in his eyes that appeared when he looked in the direction of the sun and his pensive expression.

"Laila, I should think that you know it is rude to stare." Altaïr said without needing to look at me. I jumped and looked away from him, a blush rising to my cheeks. He smirked and directed a knowing gaze at me before I buried my head in my arms as I curled up.

Altaïr spoke again but in a much more calm yet serious tone, "You have something you wish to ask me?" I slowly rose my head, surprised that he had seen through my façade. He waited intently to hear what I had to say and I recomposed myself and cleared my throat.

"I would like to know," I said as he turned his body to face me, "What you felt when you received your hidden blade." And then I saw it, the smile that lit his face with an equal amount of happiness and lamentation. I caught myself staring at him again but I could not have cared for I wanted to know what sort of thing could receive such a reaction.

"The actions performed with the tool does not warrant praise. The blade itself is meaningless," Altaïr said, trying to fit the right words together, "It is as much an honour as it is a burden. When you are granted with yours, you will understand." He said, smiling to himself with his poor description but now, as I held the mechanism in my own hands and Malik stood before me after bestowing the blade, I finally understood what Altaïr had tried to tell me those many years ago.


	7. Run

Chapter seven - Run

The novelty of recalling events in my life is that I am able to skip the uneventful memories and move onto something much more exciting and meaningful, a moment that helped to shape my future perhaps, such as receiving my hidden blade and thus Al Mualim's trust. It was, at first, unclear as to why I was still considered a member of the Order especially after my confrontation with our grandmaster but it soon made sense. He had seen a spark in me, something that the Creed needed. The daring and carefree nature of a girl in her late teens was what allowed my determination to shine through and I was proud to know that Al Mualim had also realised this. Admittedly, it was an honour simply to be accepted by those who were superior to me, Malik and Altaïr included, but it was a while until I had managed to put my blade to use.

The wind rushed through my hair and I gripped tightly onto the reins of my horse, his hooves pounding into the earth below. Galloping ahead was Malik who, despite his disability, rode effortlessly though with unnoticeable difficulty.

"Have they lost sight of us?" Malik called and I whipped my head around to spot any more pursuers. My eyes darted around frantically, I had to be certain. There was no time for mistakes.

"I cannot see any," I responded in kind to Malik's tone and we slowed our horses down to a trot. My heart was slamming itself against my chest and I could even feel it in my ears and hands, "Have the mountains always been this way?" I asked, panting though I was not tired.

Malik took a deep breath, "No, they were not always so perilous," He replied, not taking his eye off the path ahead, "Soldiers, warriors, what ever you wish to call them, these men are not typical city guards, they are highly trained like our own. Including the Creed, there are four factions here in the Kingdom, the others are the Saracens, Crusaders and Templars." Although I knew of the Holy War that was being waged, I knew nothing of its impact. I was aware of the factions though I had never suspected to have found them so close to home, it was an unsettling thought but it was also comforting to know that none had attempted to infiltrate Masyaf. At least not while I was conscious.

Malik slowed his steed to an almost sluggish pace and I followed in step. In a low whisper that eased into the breeze, Malik hardly turned his head towards me and said: "Do as I do and nothing more or less." And he inclined his head as he allowed the slow movement of his horse to jostle his body. Although it was possibly too harsh of an action, my stiff neck created a spasmodic twitch and my head sharply moved to look to the ground. It took all of my restraint to stop any jagged breaths from escaping through my lips but this resulted in an obviously strained expression which I tried to conceal with my hood.

From what I was able to distinguish from my surroundings, there was a small patrol of foot soldiers murmuring to one another in Arabic and proceeding their march with caution. I could almost feel their eyes on me, much like the beating rays of sunlight. Alongside this, my mouth was beginning to dry up from sheer anxiety but water was something that was currently out of my reach. I could not reveal myself and Malik to these men otherwise I would compromise the brotherhood but the suspense was like a slow torture. My eyes remained fixated on the dry ground and I waited for the knots of pain in my stomach to end. I had to stop myself from wincing and allowing the anguish to show on my features but it was because of my preoccupation with myself that I did not comprehend what had happened when I felt a short but sudden bump that caused my head to whip up and look towards Malik's back. His head sunk and shoulders drooped and my breath was caught in my throat.

"Run."

"Ḥashshāshīn!" One of the Saracen guards called and the rest followed in suit. Our heels dug into the sides of our horses and we darted off, on the run once again. The men were aware that they could not outrun a horse but instead they let their voices carry through the intended message. My surroundings became a blur as they rushed past me and I only on occasion saw Malik's black robe that I used to guide me through the mountainous terrain at such speed. I rounded a corner after Malik but my horse swerved and lost much of its balance as I urged it onwards with words on encouragement but the sound of a pained whinny, the sudden jolting forwards and the harsh landing onto the ground rendered me completely dazed, unaware of what had happened. My back ached and my head span as I dragged my tired body away from the menacing voices that belonged to a different set of guards. My boots pushed against the ground and my fingers gripped at anything I could find to speed up the process until I found the strength to stagger to my feet. Making off with a sprint seemed out of the question and so I started with a jog but a guard tugged at the back of my robe and I was forced back to the ground, my face now revealed to them.

I heard one of them laugh as they informed the others that I was a woman and the sound of a sheath gently knocking against one of their attire caught my attention next. A hand brashly grasped at my face and pulled me upwards as if to get a better look at me.

"The Assassins must be desperate if they resort to women," The one who held my face sneered and chuckled at my helplessness, "Her disabled friend would have been more of a challenge!" He exclaimed earning a hearty guffaw from his comrades.

"Insult me as you wish but never speak ill of my brothers." I seethed through the grip of his fingertips but this only made him laugh louder.

"And where are your 'brothers' now?" He taunted and the others smirked but much to their confusion, I also gave a small smile. The one who held me cocked his head to the side but was far too slow to react as the others reached for their blades. I had a firm clasp on the hilt of the arrogant one's sword and my foot had slammed itself into his right knee allowing time for me to pull the blade out of its sheath and I fell back to the ground as the guard keeled over in pain. I took a last glance at the man, something I should not have done, his eyes showed shock and pleading but this was no reason to let him live. Without thinking any further, the blade drove through his abdomen and a loud piercing scream echoed through the mountains. Blood spurted onto my robes and skin as I pushed him away so his corpse would not fall onto my body. With the hollow thud of the dead guard resounding next to me, I looked up at the other five men who were all ready and armed and I was on the ground, at a clear disadvantage.

A whistling noise cut through the air and ended with a short grunt or gasp resulting in the guards falling one by one. Until there was only a single man standing, he tore his attention away from his fallen comrades and charged towards me with his sword high in the air but I darted out of the way and the guard also fell to his demise. I looked away from the massacre and released slow, gentle breaths to calm myself.

"That," The sound of Malik's voice made me jump and I looked towards him, "Was not the most efficient way of disposing of them." He continued though he was not scolding me, it seemed more as if he were informing. I had opened my mouth to respond but no words formed and instead my lips trembled along with my shaking hands. Malik swiftly made his way towards me and he helped me up from the ground leading me away from the scene.


	8. Unpleasantries

Chapter eight - Unpleasantries

Days passed without my acknowledgement and nights were spent with a plagued mind full of nightmares. The man I slew in cold blood haunted my thoughts, begging an explanation for my actions, taunting my every move before his words became nothing more than a choked noise and blood spilled from the corners of his mouth. He would often grasp my robes for support as he fell and his eyes would follow the blade that had pierced him to the hands that held the hilt and up to my face. His suffering reflected his expression and I would stare back at him with no words or emotion but by this point, Malik would wake me or arouse my attention only to allow my thoughts envelope the terrifying ordeal once more.

I was lying on something of a soft nature absentmindedly, staring at the sky with a blank expression, when Malik called my name. I did not respond or move to imply that I had heard him. I felt unclean. The blood on my hands was uncomfortable and horrid, though not visible to any but me. The Saracen guard was slumped against something and his empty eyes gazed vacantly at me but only I could see him.

"Laila!" Malik said in frustration. He was stood next to my limp body, his eyebrows were furrowed. I tilted my head towards him and he exhaled in exasperation, "I need your help with unloading my equipment." He said in an attempt to keep a neutral tone but my features were expressionless and he threw his hands up, asking Allah why he had been cursed with an immobile burden.

After a few more moments of reprimanding, Malik stopped and sat crossed legged beside me, his face now covered in concern.

"Laila, speak plainly and tell me what it is that troubles you so?" He asked gently as he gave me his full attention.

I sighed deeply before, with effort, sitting up and facing him, "I killed a man," My voice was coarse as it had been unused for days and I found my eyelids shielding the outside world from myself, "The blood that has stained my robes may be washed away but the memory can never leave me." Another sigh later and I reopened my eyes to look at Malik for comfort.

"He would have killed you without hesitation if you had not acted." Malik replied simply but I detested that excuse.

"I thought the same but that does not justify murder." I spat angrily but Malik seemed to have anticipated this response as he gave a slight smirk.

"Killing is not glorified within the Creed, nor is it made to sound trivial. To ensure that our aims of peace are achieved we must rid of any obstacles that pose as a threat to the Brotherhood and others, even if this is through the means of drawing blades," He explained but I was stil struggling to make sense of it and Malik caught onto this and allowed me to elaborate. I explained that the deaths of the Saracen soldiers were not for the benefit of either the Brotherhood or the citizens but for our own lives. Again, Malik had another response ready, "For every casualty, the Creed suffers. We cannot afford to have lower rank assassins outnumbering the rest as they are not ready for physically and mentally straining tasks. Should we have died in the mountains, it would mean more novices would have to train even harder and more recruits would have to be tracked down. Although it was self defence, you serve a much higher purpose in the Creed and society than you realise and so you should value your life even more so." He concluded but I still remained slightly sceptical.

"And yet be willing to die for the Brotherhood."

We spoke in circles for a while longer, helping me to understand why my actions in the Kingdom were the correct path and soon the image of the Saracen guard in the corner disappeared. I looked into the direction of where it had originally been before taking in my surroundings for the first time since the journey through the mountains. Above me was a cage-like ceiling jutting out of the original stone that had a large square gap and around me were three plain white walls, the other was adorned with the symbol of the assassins. To the far left was an opening to another room, where Malik had emerged from earlier, and beneath me were pillows of all different colours and fabrics.

"Malik," I began sounding vaguely confused, "Where are we?"

He laughed outrageously before exclaiming how he was glad that I had finally returned to the world and clapping his right hand against my arm.

"The assassin Bureau in Jerusalem," He replied as he stood before walking into the other room, "We arrived here two days ago." He called and I shakily brought myself to my feet, using the stone wall as support. Malik continued to tell me of what had happened after the encounter with the guards in the mountains from the other room and I slowly made my way to see him. It was hardly conceivable that I had missed so much in my repressed state of mind. Apparently we had stayed in the Kingdom for a night or two so I would be able to regain my strength and my injured horse had managed to find its way back to us though Malik feared that it may have attracted unwanted attention and tied its reins to a nearby cart of hay where we bade it farewell.

"Your contribution here has been nonexistent, so far. I expect this to change." Malik pressed as I entered the next room of the Bureau and I chuckled, agreeing to his terms.

Malik was stood behind a desk that was cluttered with several pieces of parchment which he seemed to have been unsuccessfully organise. I leaned against the entrance to the chamber and smirked at his misfortune.

"Are you not intending to help?" He asked without taking his eyes away from the mess before him and I pushed myself away from the archway, taking a few more steps into the room. Above me was a wooden walkway to access the extra bookshelves and level to both Malik and I were stools, a small desk and yet even more parchment. The general lighting in the chamber was poor but Malik informed me that there were candles that we could use should it become too dark.

"Take these and sort them into the shelves above." Malik said as he held out a stack of parchment that I hastily made my way towards and relieved him of before turning on my heel and climbing up the ladder to the walkway.

For several moments Malik and I worked silently, both far too engrossed in our work to speak to one another, until a shuffling sound became audible from the main entrance. I looked towards Malik but he continued to work as he had before and so I followed in suit.

"Safety and peace, Malik." An all too familiar voice spoke, bringing both a smile and a scowl to my face.

"Your presence here deprives me of both," Malik responded with an instant tone of criticism, "What do you want?" By this point I had finished organising what Malik had given me and I sat on the walkway with an incredulous expression at the two conversing, Malik chastising while Altaïr attempted to keep himself calm. Altaïr had come to ask Malik what he knew of his next target but that information was not going to be given without struggle. Malik knew how to irritate Altaïr but he in turn knew how to infuriate his one-armed brother and it is this conflict that causes the most problems between the two of them. Altaïr was prodding his index finger into the desk, demanding Malik's intel as he made his way around the desk. I, on the other hand, simply watched the events unfold and shook my head as it did.

"Throwing a tantrum like a child are we, he of the demoted status?" Malik challenged, his grin showing his enjoyment but this soon turned into disbelief as Altaïr used his hand to push Malik away.

"As you were." Altaïr retorted as both of their chests heaved with frustration but Malik remained silent. The entire scene was somewhat comical though understandable, however as soon as I realised that Malik was to take steps towards Altaïr I decided to raise my concerns into the matter, though Altaïr proceeded first.

"Then do not help me, I will find him on my own." Altaïr conceded as he turned towards the exit, ready to storm out into Jerusalem with no bearings.

I cleared my throat, "Enough. You are both behaving as children would," I began, receiving the attention of both men. Altaïr looked up at me from where he was standing as if he had been caught off guard whereas Malik simply rested his back against his desk, "Altaïr knows not where he should start his investigation. It would be unwise send him into the city without direction." Altaïr's eyes were fixated on me but the meaning they intended to convey is still a mystery to me. He turned his attention back to Malik once he had finally decided to give him information. As the two spoke in a somewhat more civilised manner, I made my way back down the ladder of the walkway to gather more parchment that needed tending to and Altaïr gave an abrupt farewell before leaving. I had managed to peek a glance at Malik but his back was turned to me, though it was not difficult to guess what he felt


	9. Discretion

Chapter nine - Discretion

"Rest, prepare, cry in the corner. Do what ever it is that you do before a mission, only make sure that you do it quietly." I heard Malik dismiss Altaïr after he returned with information of his next target that he had procured. Not too long afterwards, Altaïr appeared in the main hall of the Bureau where I sat among the decorative pillows once more and, to my surprise, Altaïr joined me. He sat in the same manner as I did before nodding in acknowledgement and I smiled in response. I remained silent for I did not know what to say to my mentor as the last time we were in one another's company, we left on a rather sour note. Much had happened since my last encounter with Altaïr and yet I could not bring myself to tell him.

"You seem distracted." Altaïr often gave me the opportunity to choose whether I respond to him or not by making his comments sound more as if they were statements rather than questions.

"Mentor," I mumbled, unsure if I should still call him by that title, turning my attention to the floor, "Are you displeased?"

"With what?"

"Who rather than what, my friend. Are you displeased with myself or Malik? Yourself, perhaps?" I looked back up at Altaïr at this point as he shifted his weight and his hood concealed most of his face as he too looked towards the floor.

"No," He replied simply, "But recent events have made me wonder." Altaïr's voice appeared to trail off by the end of his sentence but he shook his head before returning his gaze to me, claiming that it was nonsense. Altaïr and I were quick to return to an uncomfortable silence with the only sound that disrupted us was the dragging of Malik's boots as he paced through the Bureau chamber in deep contemplation. Altaïr sighed before leaning his back against the wall and resting his elbows on his raised knees. I pursed my lips as I interlocked my fingers and attempted to think of something to strike up a conversation but Altaïr did not seem as if he was going to take the time to speak to me and so I excused myself and left him to his thoughts.

I discussed trivial matters with Malik to keep myself entertained, boredom was overwhelming when he and Altaïr were not at one another's throats, and by this point Altaïr had left for his mission. I was sat on a stool as I attempted to entice Malik into playing chess with me, despite my lack of knowledge regarding the rules, but he repelled the idea and continued to draw and write on a piece of parchment. Cartography had become his new hobby, a rather tedious one as I had described it earning a few frowns from him. I had even attempted to gain his attention through foolish acts such as lying flat on my back in the middle of the Bureau chamber and emitting strange noises or balancing his spare quills on the tip of my index finger, a task that had outwitted me and left several quills scattered across the floor, but he continued to remain dismissive of my unusual behaviour which only frustrated me even more.

"We could explore the city!" I exclaimed with a large grin as I jumped from the walkway, landing in front of Malik's desk that I had, quite loudly, slammed my palms into. Malik's hand faltered slightly and a large ink blot formed on the parchment, causing me to step back cautiously.

"'Explore'? You are not visiting Jerusalem for your own pleasure." Malik said as he pushed his parchment aside and placed his quill, the only one that I had not preyed on, back into an ink pot.

"Scout the city, then, call it what you will," I pleaded and I saw a glimmer of humour in his eyes, "Can we not even for a few moments leave the Bureau to indulge ourselves?" Malik sighed as I finished my request and it seemed to me that he was silently weighing up his options and I leant forwards in a tightly curled manner.

"I decide when we return." He finally said and I leapt in joy before darting to the Bureau entrance and hastily scaling the wall. I pulled myself onto the ledge and looked back down into the Bureau but Malik was no where to be seen. My eyebrows furrowed and I suspected it to be some form of joke that I did not find humorous but I contined down the building anyhow only to find Malik already on the ground waiting for me. I asked him how he had made such progress, baring his disability in mind, but he only smirked and turned on his heel and began to walk.

The city was bustling with life. There were people conversing on benches, others balancing jars on their heads and some gathered around market stalls. The booming voice of a herald could be heard over the general tone of the citizens and then there were the guards who stalked the city in an aggressive manner with their hands resting on the hilt of their blades. Their presence made me feel uneasy as I felt as if I were being watched by them because I appeared suspicious due to my robes, though I did keep my hood down for the time being. Malik also gained some unwanted attention from those we passed which then ended with a glare as a response from myself, it irritated me when those who did not know Malik looked at him differently. Malik passed through the crowds with ease and paid no heed to their stares whereas I seemed to bump into every person that came within a close range, earning angry verbalisations from many.

Through my muttered apologies, I heard Malik snigger at my actions to which I responded with heat rising to my cheeks, "Leave me be." I said as Malik took a sharp turn to the right and I followed. The people occupying the area was sparse and Malik seemed to notice the relief on my features

"I understand that blending is difficult on horseback," He began as he shifted his weight to his right leg, "But can you blend within the citizens?" Malik tilted his head to the side as he questioned me and I gave him a far too confident reply, stating proudly that blending within a city was far less of a challenging task than on a horse.

He grinned, "Then you will show me. Count to thirty and then begin walking eastward and do not stop." Malik did not allow me to ask any questions as he had already made his way to another destination and left me feeling confused. I looked around before sighing and I began to count aloud whilst rolling my eyes. Malik was not usually the one for games and so I suspected the task to have taken on a much larger purpose, but for what reason was still unknown to me.

"...seventeen, eighteen, nineteen..." Several people walked by and began muttering to themselves of my odd behaviour as I murmured under my breath.

"...twenty-four, twenty-five..." I shifted my hair as I pulled my hood over my head and flexed my fingers before taking a deep breath, "...twenty-nine, thirty."

My right foot moved forwards before the other followed in step and I began walking in the direction that Malik had instructed me to. I had also began to lightly push people away from me so they did not interrupt my walk and to my surprise, they did not speak out against my actions. However, I could not have anticipated what was to come. A woman on no more than twenty-seven years of age dressed in drab clothing that had several stains and hair that was pulled back into a tight and messy bun came bounding towards me.

"Just a few coins, I beg of you!" She pleaded and I attempted to dispose of her the same way that I had with those who passed me but she was persistent. The woman spoke of her poor family and their ill health, including her own, as he held her dirty hands out in front of me with a look of desperation in her eyes. It pained me in my attempt to continue onwards as I understood that poverty was evident in my surroundings but I had nothing to give to the woman. I tried to explain this to her, apologising and stating that I too was short of money but she insisted that someone dressed as I could not have been poor. I had lost sight of my initial task by this point and I used some force to bypass the woman who then pulled my sleeve to turn me back around but I ripped my arm away from her grasp and coldly stared into her eyes. She whimpered as she slowly backed away and I span around but my shoulder knocked into another person who then dropped the wooden crate that they were carrying which immediately broke upon impact with the ground. I profusely apologised as I went to pick up the remainder of the crate but then I stopped and looked towards the person that carried it. They wore a black robe that was decorated with white stitchings and they also had a short beard, dark hair and a missing arm.

"You should be more careful!" Malik said in an exaggerated tone to get the attention of those who were close, including a few of the city guards who began to make their way towards us. I took a last glance towards Malik but he simply raised his eyebrows and I could say to this day that I saw a satisfied smirk on his lips as I quickened my pace to get away from the scene.

The many voices of the citizens that spoke of my unacceptable conduct became like a continuous humming sound as I waded my way through but I could still hear the approaching guards who seemed as stubborn as the beggar. As I rounded a corner, a spring in my step tempted my legs jump down the stone stairs and run but that was not the sensible option and instead I continued onwards but at a faster pace than usual. My eyes hurriedly looked around for anything that I could use to my advantage but my surroundings seemed bare, save for the large hay bale that resided directly across from where I stood. Then it struck me.

Without any thought, I darted towards the hay and leapt head-first into the cart. The hay poked through the material of my robes and jabbed my skin creating an uncomfortable itch that I tried to relieve by wiggling my body but it only caused more issues. I inhaled as the guards' voices became audible and my breath caught in my throat as I waited anxiously in anticipation. I could not face Malik knowing that I had failed such a simple task that I had taken so lightly let alone someone such as Al Mualim who doubted my every move, and rightly so as it seemed. I could feel the dishonour and shame looming over me as if they were rain clouds and I brought my knees up to my chest, hugging them close as I closed my eyes as if in pain.

There was a tapping noise on the side of the cart, "You can come out now," I heard Malik's muffled voice state, "If you listened, you would have heard the guards give up their search." He continued as I slowly emerged from the haystack. I stepped onto the ground and stood before him with strands of hay sticking out from my hair and clothes with the most irritated expression that I could possibly muster.

"That was not blending but at least I am aware of your ability to hide from the enemy." Malik commented and I threw my arms up in an exasperated manner, emitting a noise that reflected my anger. I gave a deep inhale as he removed a piece of hay from my hair but his fingers felt as if they lingered for a little while longer than necessary but the sound of a bell tolling gained our attention and I looked around to see startled looks from the citizens who also seemed as clueless as I.

"What does that signify?" I finally asked as he lowered his hand, suspecting that Malik knew exactly what the ringing bells meant as he too looked towards where the sound was emitting from with a stern look in his eyes.

"We must return to the Bureau."

Malik had entered the Bureau in the same manner that he left it: without my knowledge of how he did so, but he also seemed frustrated as he made his way behind his desk and looked towards the hallway, expecting what was to come next. I took a seat on the stool that I had previously occupied after clearing the scattered quills and returning them to Malik who did not utter a word to me and so I sat in silence as if I had been heavily scolded for doing something wrong. Soon afterwards, Altaïr returned and inclined his head as a greeting to me and I responded in kind but Malik took on a much more sarcastic welcome as he proclaimed false joy of Altaïr's presence.

"The deed is done, Talal is dead." Altaïr stated as he presented a red-stained feather, which after I examined in close detail I came to realise to be blood, evidence that he had dispatched his target.

"Oh, I know. I know," Malik began," In fact, the whole city knows! Have you forgotten the meaning of subtlety?" His voice raised as he neared the end of his question and before I knew it, he and Altaïr were arguing once again.

"Leave!" I suddenly shouted over the two of them and Malik scoffed, "You have accomplished your task, there is nothing more here for you to do." I had not realised that I had risen from my seat and closed the gap between the three of us.

"You speak out of place." Altaïr said plainly and although it was not a particularly hurtful comment from my mentor, a stinging sensation formed in my chest and my once strong demeanour became loose as I turned my head away from him.

"And you speak with arrogance," Malik retorted but Altaïr said nothing, "Go then, return to the old man. Let us see with whom he sides." And Malik placed his hand gently on my shoulder in a similar manner to the day that he, Altaïr and Kadar left for Solomon's Temple. I looked up at Altaïr and his expression softened as he claimed that he and Malik were on the same side before turning away and the stinging in my chest soon swelled into a knot as I watched Altaïr leave.


	10. Return

**A/N: My sincerest apologies for the extremely long wait for an update. I have been very busy but hopefully I will be able to update a little more now. Thank you for the reviews so far and I hope this was worth the wait :)**

Chapter ten - Return

I recall scolding Malik somewhat for his treatment of Altaïr but I understood that his resentment was not without reason. Their general bickering would eventually lead to a more heated argument that I would feel compelled to end as both were far too stubborn, as if they were children once more. It was no secret that Altaïr and Malik had established a rivalry at a fairly young age that the entire Masyaf brotherhood had to bare witness to. Kadar and I had broken up many of their disputes in the past, one of which resulted in the younger Al-Sayf receiving a broken nose and Altaïr a heavy punishment that provided his body with bruises and scars. Despite this, the two had grown into fine men of the Order although this only made Altaïr's disregard of the tenets surprising, and as such, I did not know what to believe in. I had begun to question Altaïr's teachings although they were no different to what other novices were taught, it was as if his words had been tainted by his betrayal. Malik had noted that there were no excessive flaws in my performances during training sessions, but he was fully aware of the doubt that began to cloud my mind and reveal itself through jaded eyes. I was aware of Altaïr's efforts, fighting his way back into the brotherhood, but each time that he presented himself in the Bureau a new expression of confusion mixed with exhaustion had swept across his features. I had admitted to Malik that I saw this as hardly reassuring, but he simply shrugged my comment off as though he had noticed nothing.

It was a cool evening when Altaïr next came to the Bureau though not for any other reason than to simply ask that I walk with him. I had tentatively, although gratefully, agreed once Malik had dismissed me from his rather tedious lecture on cartography but I relished the opportunity to feel the wind pierce through my skin as I raced over the rooftops of Jerusalem with my mentor leading the way. Had it not have been for more recent events that plagued my thoughts, I would not have believed that anything had changed but I knew in my heart that no amount of time could erase what had passed. The sound of a definitive thud resounding from Altaïr's boots roused my attention and I brought myself to a stop, realising how far away we were from the Bureau. Altaïr stared into the distance, seemingly at nothing, while a gentle breeze swayed his robes and his hood flickered, shifting the shadow that veiled his features slightly to reveal the line of a scar that marred his lips.

I inhaled deeply, "To what do I owe the pleasure of a private talk?" I asked, tearing my eyes away from him and focusing in the general direction that he gazed in. I found myself intently looking at a distant star, night had come upon us faster than I had anticipated or perhaps I had been out longer than expected.

"I may have brought you here to speak with you alone but my request is no secret." Altaïr responded cryptically, something that he appeared to find amusement in for I would react in a similar way each time.

"Oh, be out with it!" I replied impatiently but despite the shadow of a grin playing upon his lips, there was a melancholy tone about him. I waited for what seemed to be years before he finally spoke again but I was careful with how I would respond.

A few more moments passed and we found ourselves seated next to one another with a noticeable gap between one another. I ran my fingers through my hair as I racked my mind for an appropriate response, simply wishing to hide my face at the idea of throwing a childish tantrum that had presented itself in the first instance and appeared to be the only suggestion I could give myself.

"Laila," Altaïr began and I whipped my head around to look at him almost too eagerly, "Either you put your blade to use or return to Masyaf. Those are your only options." I could tell by his stern tone that there was no way around his request. Sighing, I returned staring at the sky, the stars flickering slightly and some hidden behind small wisps of cloud that were almost as dark as the night.

"I am a coward," I finally breathed although no louder than a whisper. Altaïr proceeded to intervene my stream of consciousness either through speech or a questioning gaze but I was quicker, "I tell myself that I am an assassin but how can I if I have not yet properly wielded a blade? I left Masyaf not to better myself through study or aid my brothers on duty, but through selfish means that have left me idle and useless."

"Such actions are not the makings of a coward," Altaïr concluded as if I had not spoken. I shot an exasperated look in his direction but his features did not falter, "Truly, it is not that you have displayed cowardice but as you say, there is no time in the brotherhood to be idle." He continued and I knew that it made sense. I was foolish to think that I would be able to stay in Jerusalem for Malik simply asked that I make the journey with him, not to stay and become a distraction. I sighed deeply, understanding that I had to return to the all-too-familiar walls of Masyaf that I had so longed to be away from. I let the breeze wash over my features, savouring my last night away from the stronghold.

"What of Malik?" I suddenly asked, earning a mildly amused expression from Altaïr.

"Malik will remain in Jerusalem as is his duty." He replied simply and my shoulders sank as I began to feel more childish with the passing seconds. Of course Malik would stay, he was a Bureau leader and it was wrong of me to assume that he would need help to fulfill this role. My eyebrows furrowed as I mulled over as to why I would think that Malik would be in need of aid before shaking my head at myself. How ignorant of me.

I had not realised but Altaïr had lowered his hood and as the cold reached his features he took a quick inhale as if wincing. I glanced over to him and grinned in a contorted manner as I attempted to stifle it.

"Altaïr, the great former Master Assassin cannot withstand a cold wind," I commented, my grin growing larger and slyer but Altaïr remained silent, "I also hear that you cannot swim." That did it.

"It is not a requirement." He interjected although trying not to sound frustrated. His eyebrows were furrowed and his lips pressed into a hard line as he stared at nothing and I could not restrain the eruption of laughter. Altaïr glared daggers at me but this only increased my amusement as I clutched my stomach as if holding my body together and I heard him exhale loudly in annoyance.

"You are hardly in a position to feel humorous." Altaïr grumbled after maintaining his composure throughout my outburst and I smiled, although not in an amused manner.

"I admire your ability to detach yourself from your emotions. I am not sure if I would die sooner from laughter or an enemy's blade." I commented with a chuckle as I brought my knees to my chest, hugging them closely in a way to comfort myself. I wondered if anything had really changed or whether recent events had clouded my mind and therefore any source of logical thinking. Had Altaïr acted in the best interest of the Creed by disobeying the tenets? Such thoughts were treacherous to the mind as it would require the thinker to question the very fundamental teachings of the assassin brotherhood, but I also had to consider my own mentor. Were Altaïr a traitor, then would this also reflect in my own actions? Would I too betray my brothers through an inheritance of knowledge passed down by Altaïr? I had not realised that my smile had faded and also replaced with confusion. Sighing, I rose to my feet and glanced at the back of Altaïr's head. His eyes were fixated upon something that I could not locate and so I gazed at my boots.

"I shall journey back to Masyaf with you at dawn. Safety and peace, mentor." The word felt thick against my tongue as I forced myself to utter it. Spinning on my heel, I made my way to the Bureau for the last time in what became a long period of time and I somehow knew this as I savoured each step of the way.

"So soon? I suppose the old man is itching to have you back and punish you accordingly." Malik had said when I explained my soon-to-be abrupt departure once I had arrived back in the Bureau.

I shuddered, "I have been dreading that," I began, "Yet, I do not understand why I was presented with a hidden blade if I have yet to prove myself in battle." The notion had troubled me somewhat. I had not warranted the blade and worse, only Al Mualim could perform the ceremony in which I would officially integrate into the brotherhood. I folded my arms and bent my left leg at the knee as I leant against a wall whilst Malik cleared his worktop. My eyes scanned the simple room, taking in what details my mind could retain. The dark coloured wood of the extensive book shelves, the many sheets of parchment scattered across the walkway and the dreaded chess set that I still did not fully understand. I found myself frowning at the checked board only for Malik to chuckle.

"If you handle a hidden blade in the same way that you play chess then I would highly recommend seeking a different life." He remarked and although he was grinning, I could sense a tone of seriousness to his voice. I did not create an uproar or chastise him, instead I nodded and continued my visual exploration of the Bureau taking note of the lack of response concerning my last statement but I did not question Malik.

He sighed, "Laila, why must you worry so?" I turned to face Malik, lips parted and an expression full of confusion. I studied him intently and I began to see it even more. The only difference that I noted was Malik's eyes; his were a strange blue. Echoing his words without meaning to only increased my awareness of their likeness. How had I not seen this before? I realised that despite Malik's loss of limb and growing facial hair, there was still a strong resemblance. I could feel the tears stinging my eyes but I would not let them succeed. Of course, Malik noticed every change of emotion that coursed through me and he softly called my name as he made his way around his desk but a thick lump in my throat prevented my ability to respond. Malik cautiously placed his hand against my arm before moving it up to the back of my head and took a step towards me, closing the gap between us. I did not protest against the contact but instead found myself welcoming the warmth of his comfort. He then gently pulled me closer and I hesitantly lifted my head to gaze at him There was a small smile on his lips, a gentle look in his eyes and I could not stop myself from staring.

"All will be well." He murmured no louder than a whisper and I believed him. There was an undoubted truth to his voice that I could not deny and I found myself clinging onto what hope Malik provided me with as he moved his hand to brush strands of hair away from my face. His fingers were light against my skin but I realised that they lingered yet again. I cleared my throat and took a step back from Malik, apologising for my unusual behaviour and claiming that I should gather my belongings. Malik had only begun to lower his arm just as I turned away.

Malik and I shared a short goodbye and my journey back to Masyaf with Altaïr was rather uneventful compared to my last adventure through the mountainous terrain. Before I knew it, I was miles from Jerusalem and safely returned to the stronghold. I was glad for the familiar sight but something was missing and yet I could not place what it was. Altaïr had just about dismounted his horse when Abbas came looking for an argument, to which Altaïr responded with silence. Whilst Abbas continued to try and gain a response from Altaïr, I swung my leg over my horse and my boots finally made contact with the ground again in what seemed like years ago. I took hold of the reins as I patted my horse but a thin boy of around eleven years of age came bounding towards me. He was dressed in simple clothing and his short black hair was tousled from a makeshift hood that was sewn onto his blouse.

I grinned at the boy, "Safety and peace, my brother." I said before inclining my head in respect and the boy beamed in delight and his somewhat rosy cheeks reddened. He giggled as he responded in kind, a large smile still stuck to his features and I could not help but join him in his joy.

"What is your name?" I asked and the boy cleared his throat as if he was going to announce something to the world.

"I am Rimon. I live in the village here." He stated as though I would not have guessed where his lodgings were.

"An honour it is to meet you, Rimon. My name is Laila." I replied with a smile. It is strange to think of how young Rimon once was for I also remember how he grew in the next years of his life, he even became a most useful member to the Creed. He would spend hours equally in contemplation and in training, a fine man he was to become indeed. At the time, he simply requested that he take my steed instead and that I rest after my journey. I had thanked him for his kindness and promised that I would see him soon before making my way to the stronghold but instead I came across Altaïr who had defeated Abbas by speaking no words.

"That boy is sickly. Do not encourage ambitions that will not come to be." Altaïr stated plainly. My eyes widened in disbelief and I turned back to Rimon who was busy tending to my horse.

"If I take away his dreams then what will he have to live for?" I challenged as I returned my gaze to Altaïr and his expression softened as he turned to the Masyaf castle. As I fell in step with Altaïr, even then, I looked forward to helping Rimon prove Altaïr wrong.


	11. Feuds

Chapter eleven - Feuds

Weeks passed and Rauf did not hesitate to coax me into sparring practise. Altaïr was playing the role of errand boy once more and so he had left Rauf to decide my fate. How I loathed him for it.

"Lift your blade higher! What use is it if you are dragging it along the floor?" Rauf called as I swerved around the attacks of my opponent. I did not know the name of the assassin that I had been coupled with but I could tell from his skill that he was of a higher rank than I. The training ring was fairly large but despite this, I had still managed to find my back pressed against the edges on many occasions. The ground was softer within the ring due to the many boots that had pounded into it over the years but this only made it harder for me to step away from attacks. There was a small crowd surrounding the ring and to add to my discomfort there was a mixture of cheers and jests; I had guessed that the latter was directed at me. I brought my sword up with both hands to parry the next blow and I heard the sound of laughter.

"She cannot wield a light weapon with one hand." One member of the crowd commented and in return there was another chorus of laughter. I had also heard several remarks about women in general, how useless and pathetic they were. Listening to them enraged me but I was under no circumstance to harm a member of my brotherhood.

"Tell me, brother: were it not for women then where would we be?" My opponent had ceased throwing attacks at me and was now concentrating on our brother in the crowd with furrowed eyebrows, framing his dark irises with thick lashes.

"Yes, yes, I have heard this argument many times." He waved off the question but my sparring partner was not done.

"Then pay heed to it or your ignorance will one day become costly." There was a tone of great anger within his voice but the jesting assassin simply grinned and folded his arms.

"Of what use is this preaching, Sahir? Your own mother was a whore, was she not?" His grin grew but I was wary of the signs of a man about to charge head first into trouble without thinking. The one they called Sahir exhaled in a calm manner but the flexing of his fingers was not reassuring. It only took a second for him to gain speed and I had stepped into his way but this would not stop him. Sahir simply wheeled around me but there was a small moment of faltering in his fast paced steps and that was my only chance.

I grabbed at his arm and pulled him back with what ever force I could muster before seizing his other arm and held him back. Sahir had screamed insults that I would prefer not to repeat but they are somewhat amusing when I look back now.

"That is enough!" Rauf shouted over the commotion and I felt Sahir's body tense, "Laila, take Sahir inside. We are done for today." Although his voice was more calm when addressing me, I did not challenge the rage in Rauf's eyes. I spoke Sahir's name softly and began ushering him away from the training ring. We had only taken a few steps before he shrugged my hands from his shoulders and he walked alone. I sighed as I watched Sahir trudge across the grounds to his chamber but as I too made my own way, I wondered if Sahir felt shame or pride in his actions.

I encountered Sahir again late in the evening of the same day in the library. The prospect of returning to the library was not something I welcomed and the feeling of the cold stone enveloping my body as I fell unconscious upon hearing of Kadar's death became more apparent to me as I stepped through the doors. It was as if the guards were also watching me in case there was another situation demonstrating my incompetence but I would not allow that to happen. I pushed the connotations I held with the library away from my mind as I slowly made my way through and that was when I spotted Sahir.

"Safety and peace." I was surprised that Sahir spoke first but I responded in kind. He motioned his hand to a seat but I declined and so he returned to reading his book, "Have it your way then." I heard him mutter. I shifted my weight awkwardly as I attempted to think of something to say but instead I seemed to have folded my arms and began gazing into the distance.

"If you are here to thank me for my troubles then do not." He said without lifting his eyes from the pages that he intensely concentrated on.

"I came here to study," I justified quickly for reasons that I still do not know, "But, as you are here, I would like to apologise for your troubles rather than give thanks." Sahir looked up from his book and inclined his head slightly before returning to read yet again. I decided it best to leave him with his thoughts as I began browsing the many texts that were on the shelves. Some were more worn than others but each of them were beautiful from the delicate writing of the covers and spines to the shabby mustiness that were the books themselves. The pages when turned would make a satisfying creak and flicker that I could not help but smile at but they were also rather distracting as I had not noticed Sahir looking in my general direction but he did not speak. I myself also took a glance at him but his back was turned to me as he also sought another book.

"Laila!" And rapid knocks on my door the next morning had followed, resounding throughout the room. I jumped, my heart pounding as if threatening to tear through my chest. I quickly brought my hand up to rest against my head to steady myself.

"Yes?" I croaked, struggling to speak so soon after waking. The door swung open and Sahir stood with a troubled expression, "What is it?" My dizziness now replaced with concern. Sahir was panting after running up the many stairs that led to my chamber but there was something else, I could sense it in his stance.

"There is a child in the courtyard claiming to know you," He spoke unevenly through his intakes of breath, "Abbas is not taking kindly to him." I threw myself out of my room and bounded down the stairs bare footed. There was no time to dress, Abbas was not one to wait before making stupid decisions. I cursed under my breath as I came closer to the courtyard and I could hear Abbas' shouts.

"Why are you here, boy?" He screamed at the pale boy who could not bring himself to answer. Abbas had a hold of his blouse and brought him closer to his face, "Answer me!"

"Rimon!" I called, temporarily distracting Abbas but it was enough time for Rimon to tear himself away from Abbas and run to me. I dropped to my knees and embraced him, stroking his hair affectionately. I felt him quaking in fear and I comforted him with gentle words as I also glared at Abbas and I was careful not to allow my anger to entangle itself in my words to Rimon.

"Of course, it is always you that causes problems." Abbas announced and I became aware of the amount of people that were bearing witness to the situation. I released Rimon and returned to my feet but Rimon had found his way behind me and he took refuge there.

"Indeed, I am the problem here," I replied bitterly and my lip curled into a snarl, "He is a child, Abbas. An innocent child, at that. You would do well to remember the tenets." I felt Rimon tighten his clutch on my robes and Sahir had also kept relatively close to me.

"Be silent, woman. Your words are not welcome here." Abbas practically growled and I could not stop myself from walking towards him. I did not know what it was that I planned on doing but all I wanted to do was hurt him. He had his chance to redeem himself but no, Abbas continued to bury himself in his wretched outbursts that hardly separated him from the animals. I looked at Abbas and I saw everything that I loathed most in this world. The sound of a sword unsheathing brought my attention back to the moment at hand and I came to realise that I had not armed myself but that matter became trivial. I remember thinking that if Abbas harmed me with his blade, then so be it.

Abbas lifted his blade as I came closer to him and the next thing I knew he was swinging it back down. I darted out of the way and dodged the oncoming flurry of attacks that he threw. His blade handling was exemplary, I would give him that, but his anger caused him to lash out attacks everywhere and anywhere. Although there was no real force behind his slashes, a wrong step on my behalf would have given me more than a scratch from his unpredictable offensive style but it was as if he was reluctant. Abbas swung closer to my torso but I continued to evade him until he came slightly too close to me and I acted upon impulse. As Abbas moved in for another attack, I made a grab for his wrist and kicked his stomach hard. Abbas cried out in pain and I twisted his wrist, causing him to release his blade. I pushed his body away from mine and he stumbled backwards.

"Fucking coward!" I shouted at him and he stared at me incredulously. I panted as I met his gaze, enraged with the pathetic excuse for a man that stood before me, "You attack a child because you believe that he lacks strength. You fight me because you think I am incapable. You are weak!" Abbas inhaled deeply, his chest heaving with anger and my furious stance matched his. We remained like that for a few more moments but it soon came to an end. And with that, Al Mualim finally made his appearance.

Storming through the corridors, I pushed past my brothers without a second thought. My reddened cheek stung painfully as I waded through the many questions and forced concerns. I could hear Sahir calling after me and I did not slow my pace but it was until the sound of a younger person's voice came to the forefront. I span around and spotted Rimon as he dashed towards me once more and latched his arms around me. Despite the winded feeling that subsequently came about, I placed my hand on his head and he looked up at me.

"You are hurt." He said, eyes wide in horror. I attempted to smile at him but the skin of my cheek stretched and felt as if it burned, causing me to wince. Rimon looked behind him at Sahir in a pleading manner but the assassin simply shook his head.

"This is a small part of my punishment from the grandmaster, Rimon. I cannot have it treated for it would reveal a weakness that should not exist." I explained, deliberately giving him the shorter story to save my cheek excessive pain.

"That is a stupid rule!" Rimon said defiantly and I successfully chuckled through my small but irritating injury. I did miss the naïvety of childhood, life was easier that way.

"Then what is your punishment?" Rauf had asked from behind me as he walked through the hallway towards us, catching parts of our conversation prior to joining us. I glanced around to look at him as he made his way past but he had stopped next to me.

I sighed in exasperation, the thought was still troubling me, "Menial tasks, it seems," I began as I allowed my shoulders to shrug in an exaggerated manner. Rimon had released me by this point but his eyes remained fixated upon me, "Masyaf is to act as my prison until Al Mualim sees fit to allow my leave." My hands had tightened into fists even before I had finished explaining but I knew better than to speak out against the grandmaster as it appeared that we were already on bad terms with one another. As much as I disliked him at the time, I still held him with high regard and the utmost respect but I did not know what was to become of him.

"I suppose you will be waiting on the old man." Sahir mused with a sly smirk before continuing to paint a comical picture with words, suggesting that I would be feeding Al Mualim grapes and massaging his feet. I noticeably shuddered at the thought and came close to hitting Sahir but Rimon's laughter brought a smile to my own lips.

The humour was short lived, "You tread in dangerous waters, Laila. I suggest that you proceed with caution." Rauf had murmured as he stalked away. I realise now that I should not have disregarded his words as fleeting mumblings but instead view them as a warning, which I now do to this very day.


	12. Incubus

**Chapter twelve – Incubus**

The feeling of the straw mattress against my back was most welcome and I had made myself comfortable after shifting my body slightly. I recall staring at the ceiling for a while, brooding over the events of the last few days. Rimon was not to enter the castle grounds but I was free to visit him in the village, which I found to be a fair compromise. I had kept Abbas far from my thoughts through fear of unnecessarily angering myself but that did not stop him from crossing my mind. I felt my body relax and ease further into the straw as I exhaled quietly but it felt as if I had strained to breathe. Passing it off as mere fatigue I went to turn my body over, but I could not move. My eyes darted around frightfully but I did not know what I was searching for. It could not have been tiredness that caused my body to stop responding and so I attempted to call out for help, but there was no sound. It was as if the scream was caught in my throat, creating more of a problem when breathing. The only part of me that moved were my eyes, indicating my distress but to who? My breathing had become forced but even then it was difficult to keep up. My limbs felt as if they were being held down by invisible figures that I still dared not to look upon as I knew I could not fight them off but I could not submit. A deep chuckling emitted to the right of me from the furthest corner of my chamber and as I attempted to turn my head to gain a better view there was something warm against the left side of my neck. It came and went rhythmically and I found myself close to tears as the breathing continued. I had almost envied the figure as I struggled to breathe of my own accord but it was a sinister creature, human or not. There was a pause. I had wanted to sigh in relief, the chuckling had stopped and as did the breathing. It was a short pause.

A hand latched itself around my ankle and began dragging my stiff body out from my bed and my exhalations, of a sort, had quickened. The contact of the stone floor against my body was harsh but there was nothing I could do. I searched for the creature but it had retreated into the darkness where the evil laugh had resumed. For what I recall to be the second time in my life, I prayed. I pleaded to Allah to rid of the evil spirits and save me and, despite my own doubt, I continued. I had accepted death but I had not expected it to come so soon. I almost felt disappointed as I had always anticipated my death to come by the end of a blade and a cynical chuckle stopped in my throat as a deep, rumbling hum flowed through the air. Surely this creature was making enough noise for my brothers to hear but they still had not come to aid me. Perhaps they did not care for me? What if my supposed brothers had set this terrible creature upon me to bring about my end? The cruel laughter resumed and I willed myself to cease filling my mind with negative thoughts but I could not help picturing Malik and Altaïr. Would the two of them help if they were present?

Anticipation proved to be my worst enemy as I felt without feeling that the creature was moving. Something brushed across my cheek and my insides twisted as my instincts attempted to force my body away but not even a cringe was emitted as the creature continued its exploration with malice deep within itself. I could hear a low, guttural growl emanating from its chest and with its close proximity, it was difficult not to feel intimidated. What ever breath was left in me was destroyed as I suddenly felt its full weight upon me and I understood my helplessness as I frantically searched for a face but my inability to squirm frightened me. I still do not know to this day what it was that released me but as the creature began to close the gap between the two of us, a gust of air filled my lungs once more.

"Be gone!" I screamed and I began to take sharp inhalations of breath while bringing my knees up and writhing to lay on my side. The ground seemed colder now but the weight from my body had lifted and my chest ached from the violent coughing fit that followed. My throat burned as if venom had been poured into my mouth and my eyes released tears but I was not weeping.

"Laila?" A brother on patrol spoke through the door but I was relishing the feeling of breathing once again and could not respond. He repeated my name, to which I frustratedly groaned as I came to realise that many a time had my brothers stood outside my door calling my name. My throat relented to another wave of coughs and the brother announced that he would enter my bedchamber if I did not coherently speak to him and I wheezed in reply, which surely must have panicked the man as he took mere seconds to open the door and gaze into the darkness.

I was facing away from him and he hurriedly came to my side, firing questions and stating reassurances that I did not require. It was when he mentioned Al Mualim's name that my hand shot to grasp his wrist as he began to shift away from me.

"Brother," I croaked as the burning within my throat rose and fell, "Do not trouble the old man." I knew he would argue against my request and so I coupled my words with a piercing stare, to which the man before me stammered before nodding and I released my grip on him but he soon made a dash for the exit and I debated whether he had decided to listen to my request. As he made haste in leaving through either worry or fear, I remained laying still on my side drifting in and out of sleep, but what aroused my attention each time was the knowledge of the creature that lurked within the darkest corners of my room. I am still uncertain as to what the creature was and why it appeared to me that night. I have deduced several different possible interpretations, but they sounded more ridiculous as each theory slipped from my tongue. At the time, I pondered whether it had retreated until the opportune moment to strike once more? I speculated if the brother who came to my aid was the last friendly face I would see. I wondered what my final thoughts would be, whether they would consist of memories that 'flashed before my eyes', as the term went, or if I would think of the very few but dear friends that I had gained over the years. My chest tightened as I realised that I had not the chance to laugh with Rimon, to share books with Sahir, to argue with Altaïr. I felt a stirring within my room and I closed my eyes as I attempted to make peace with knowing that I was never to enjoy another moment with Malik, but I found that the pain of knowing that I would be separated from them all was too much to bare as a lone tear seeped from my thick lashes.

A sudden contact with my shoulder sent a frenzied shock throughout my body and I reeled to face my attacker.

"I will not die at the hands of a fiend," I seethed during the motion as I bared my teeth, "Away, you foul apparition, unless if you wish to claim my life. It will be no easy feat." I cannot say from whence my confidence emanated from but it filled my mind with the will to live and that was enough to create the power to fight. Through gritted teeth, I took up a defensive stance on the ground readying myself to prance for the nearest item that could be used as a weapon.

The figure before me shifted its weight before moving closer, "I yield." A familiar voice laced with understanding and a hint of humour eased into the air and my body instantaneously relaxed. They stepped cautiously towards me before stooping to kneel and placed a friendly hand upon my shoulder.

"Altaïr." I breathed, intending it as a statement rather than a question that held an obvious answer. The brother who came to my aid stood in the doorway to observe the situation and I inclined my head respectfully to him, grateful that he had heeded my words.

"Can you stand?" Altaïr's question had caught me off guard but I nodded nonetheless and with his help, I staggered to my feet before slowly shuffling towards my hay mattress. Altaïr gently sat me down but I anxiously looked around the room, particularly to the dark areas. Nothing escaped Altaïr's perceptive eyes as he excused himself before asking the fellow assassin to keep watch of me. He soon returned with a handful of candles, one of which he lit using the flame of a torch upon the wall in the corridor that he placed in a corner of my room. The rest of the candles were lit and strategically positioned, creating light where darkness had originally resided. It had surprised me that I had not come to think of such a delicate solution as Altaïr brought a chair to sit by me. He had also made sure to dismiss our brother, claiming that he was fully able to watch over me and that it would be wise to keep this mishap amongst ourselves. Altaïr was able to remain calm in tough scenarios and for this, I was glad.

"What happened?" But it was reasons such as his bluntness that made me not so glad of his presence. He interpreted my silence as a misunderstanding of the question, and so he clarified, "Our brother claimed he heard you shout. You were lucky not to wake the others." Altaïr continued before shifting in his chair, patiently awaiting an answer.

I sighed, not knowing how to respond. I eventually settled for: "A nightmare." But this simple reply would not suffice. Altaïr pried for details such as how I had come to find myself on the floor and why I did not call for help. I did not fully explain to Altaïr the occurrences but I equivocated enough for him to understand that I would speak to him in my own time.

"I hear that Abbas has found a disliking for you." The sudden change in topic was unexpected but I chuckled bitterly nonetheless.

"More so than he originally did," I replied. Word spread fast around the castle but that meant Altaïr had been present for a fair amount of time. I dared not to think that my mentor had heard of my mishap with Abbas from whichever city he had ventured off to, "It was not as if I had ever been in his favour." I continued as I gave Altaïr a strained smirk but the expression I received in return was enough to make me shrink back into my hunched posture, turning my gaze to the ground.

His eyes never left my face, "That gives you no reason to provoke him," He stated sternly and continued as I attempted to protest, "Brash as his actions were, that did not permit you to behave in accordance. Claiming that he is weak does not increase your own strength." I had clamped my teeth together restraining myself from applying these lessons to Abbas as well, but I believe now that Altaïr intended the message to work both ways. I realised then how Altaïr's attitude had begun to change slightly, he appeared to be more aware as if the dust had been cleared away from the window that was his mind. My eyes flickered senselessly as the contact of a cloth against my cheek startled me but Altaïr quietly comforted me as he wiped the cold sweat from my skin and I sighed somewhat raggedly as I tried to relax my body once more. I glanced around the room but the darkness had disappeared and were instead replaced with the several dancing flames of the candles that Altaïr had utilised.

"Get some rest," His voice chimed in once more as he began to rise to his feet and I nodded absentmindedly. Altaïr took another glance at me but he lingered for a few moments, making sure that I had found myself back in my bed, "Would you prefer the candles to be extinguished?" He asked in a tone that I could not place, possibly somewhere between concern and hesitation but I shook my head as I made myself comfortable.

"Leave them be. I would prefer to keep the shadows at bay for tonight." I muttered and with a confused expression, Altaïr left in silence as I drifted into an uneasy sleep.


End file.
